


Healing Symptoms

by romancingtheinkstainedpages



Category: Dragon Age, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-11
Updated: 2015-03-06
Packaged: 2018-03-11 21:32:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3333632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/romancingtheinkstainedpages/pseuds/romancingtheinkstainedpages
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Commander Cullen, leader of the Inquisitions forces, falls in love with a healer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I apologize for stopping this fic before it was finished, but I lost my direction with it. I may pick it up again. I would like to finish it at some point. Thank you to all the readers who read along as I came out with chapters! You guys were great and encouraging. This was my first fanfiction I actually started to write down, hopefully it will not be my last.

Commander Cullen winced at the dull ache blossoming at the back of his head. He rubbed at the spot, tipping his head back slightly to relieve the tension in his neck. _Maker’s breath. Not now_.

“You have a shield in your hand soldier. Use it,” the Commander reprimanded sharply. The soldier lifted the shield a little higher and used it to block his partner’s swing. “Good. That’s an improvement.”

Cullen moved past the pair to observe the other troops, trying to concentrate on them and not the pain. He was surrounded by the thudding sound of metal swords banging against wooden shields. Most of the Inquisition’s soldiers were volunteers who had never held a sword, but their willingness to practice daily in Haven’s harsh climate gave the Commander hope for the Inquisition. They needed a strong hand to guide them, a firm leader who would not falter in the days to come. Cullen wanted to be that leader, but it wasn't easy to hide his weakness.

With a shaking hand, Cullen shielded his eyes from the sun’s glare on the snow. Sensitivity to light and sound accompanied the headaches. Cullen was out of the potions Adan had cooked up for him. He’d have to see the healer for a new batch. Cullen sighed and rubbed his neck. He hated to leave while supervising his soldiers, but neither did he want to collapse in front of them.

“Lieutenant!”

The young man jogged over to him.

“Yes Commander?”

“Take over for a moment. Make sure they use their shields.”

“Yes ser,” he replied with a salute.

Cullen nodded to him and headed through Haven’s gate.As he made his way up the stairs to the healer’s cabin, dark spots popped in his vision. When he reached the cabin, he didn't bother knocking.

"Adan?" Cullen called as he pushed through the door.

"He's not here," a voice came from behind the door.

Beside the doorway, a young woman sat at a small desk stacked with open books, scribbling in a frayed notebook. She didn't look up from her work as Cullen peered around the door.

"Where is he?" He asked through clenched teeth. The ache had spread to encompass his entire head and started throbbing.

"He went to see the quartermaster," the woman replied, "but I can assist you." She set down her pen in the notebook and looked at him. She smoothed her skirt as she stood. Her face was blurry and the room was spinning.

"No...uh...I can come back," the commander stammered. He frantically grabbed for the door.

The woman cocked her head to the left, both brows raised above blue-grey eyes in question. Cullen had a hard enough time telling Adan his ailment, but Adan was a tight-lipped man and didn't ask many questions. The commander didn't want more people to know about his decision to stop taking lyrium. He stood up straight, but without the support of the door his legs buckled and he fell to his knees. _Damn_.

"Let's get you up Commander.” The woman moved quickly, draping his arm over her shoulders and wrapping a slender arm around his waist. She helped him to his feet and carried him to her chair. After setting him down, she shut the door. Cullen tipped his head back, closing his eyes to keep the world from spinning. He felt something on his feet. Slowly, he looked down at his shoes and found a small mabari puppy laying across them. Surprised, Cullen reached down and scratched the pup’s ears. The pup licked his hand.

“Is he yours?”

“Apparently,” came the quick reply.The woman had the journal in one hand and was pulling various herbs off a drying rack by the fire. She hummed quietly; Cullen recognized the tune.

“Are you Ferelden?” Cullen asked.

“Yup.”

Realizing he wasn't going to get anything more than one word answers, Cullen picked up the puppy and set it on his lap. He closed his eyes and concentrated on the woman’s humming to keep the pulsating pain at bay.

“Here.”

Cullen opened his eyes and the woman stood in front of him, a steaming mug in her hands. She held it out to him and went back to work after he took it. Warmth seeped through his leather gloves. He blew on the liquid before taking a tentative sip. It was surprisingly sweet. Cullen had expected it to be bitter.

“This tastes much better than Adan’s crap,” Cullen commented.

The woman chuckled. “Adan is an alchemist. He prefers to make things explode.”

Cullen was surprised to hear that. He took a larger drink. Already the throbbing lessened and the ache began to recede from his forehead.

“If that’s the case, why is he in charge of the healers?” Cullen asked. He looked over at the woman. She was scooping up minced herbs and placing them in a small pouch. She didn’t pause her work as she spoke.

“You have no one else.”

It was true. The Inquisition had been hastily put together. They took help where they could find it and didn’t turn it down if it was offered. The Inquisition was grateful for people like Adan who were willing to take on heavy responsibilities. Cullen drained the mug, the pain returned to a dull ache and was barely noticeable. He set the mug down on the table behind him and set the mabari on the ground as he stood up. The puppy waddled over to the desk and laid underneath it. Cullen rubbed his neck to loosen the last bit of tension in his neck.

“Thank you,” he said, turning to the young woman, “I feel much better now.”

“One moment.”

With his pain no longer clouding his vision, Cullen noticed the woman was an elf. But as she gathered up the packet of herbs and some vials of a greenish liquid, he noticed she looked human too. The ears that poked out of her chin length reddish blonde curls were slightly pointed, but not as severe as an elf’s. Her frame wasn't as waify as an elf’s, but she was still slender and rather short. Half-lings weren't unheard of, but they usually looked very human. She put the packet and the vials into a small drawstring bag and walked over to him.

“These will help with the headaches. There are instructions inside the bag. Make sure to follow them exactly as they are written,” she ordered. She handed him the bag. “Come back before you run out.”

“Follow instructions. Come back,” Cullen repeated, a smirk on his lips. “I think I can handle it.”

The woman stuck out her tongue and gave him a smirk of her own.

Cullen turned to leave and realized he didn’t know her name. He turned back towards her. She was already cleaning up the tables.

“I’m sorry...I didn’t ask you your name,” he said sheepishly, rubbing his neck.

The woman shook her head slightly and laughed. “Hadley. Marie Hadley.”

“Well thank you, Marie Hadley.”

“Good day, Commander.” Cullen nodded, feeling embarrassed, and quickly opened the door.

The cool wind felt good on his face. He attached the small bag to his belt and headed back to his troops.

**************

_A templar with a headache_ , Marie mused, pulling her chair back to her desk and sitting down. The Chantry had little documentation on the effects of lyrium on the human body, and even less on withdrawal symptoms. It was as if the Chantry didn’t want anyone to know the templars suffered, or that some have tried to untether themselves from their lyrium leashes. When she was younger, Marie read some manuals and journals referencing lyrium effects tucked away in the dusty shelves of the Redcliff Chantry. The severity of the Commander’s headache suggested he had recently stopped taking lyrium, perhaps a few months before the Conclave.

Marie found a blank sheet of paper under her pile of books. Tucking her curls behind her ears, she picked up her pen and jotted down the treatment and instructions she had given the Commander. They would continue to work for a time, but his symptoms were mild compared to those he would experience in the months to come. She’d have to come up with better potions and herbal mixtures. It’d be a challenge since there was little material to work with. Perhaps Haven’s Chantry had something.

Sighing, the healer flipped through the books in front of her. She opened her notebook to a blank page. The Chantry sisters didn’t like it when she wrote in the books, a quirk of hers they didn’t find charming. She left a few dirty notes in the margins, hoping to redden an innocent sister’s face. Marie chuckled to herself as she wrote down a raunchy joke she heard from Sera at breakfast. She blew on the ink before turning the page.

The mabari pup laid across her feet, twitching in his sleep. Her toes were warm under his weight. Haven was much colder than her family farm just south of Redcliff. Despite the cold, Marie believed she made the right decision in joining the Inquisition. She could learn so much more than on the farm, patching up farm hands and livestock. The pile of books in front of her consisted of every herbal and medicinal manual Haven had. She had already managed to improve upon Adan’s healing potion with the information she gathered from them.

Marie didn’t look up from her books when the door opened and closed.

“Was that the Commander?” Adan asked gruffly. He stood beside her desk, arms folded in front of his chest.

“Yes ser,” she answered. Adan scoffed at the use of “ser”. Marie tried not to show her smirk.

“What did he want?”

“You.” Marie liked Adan. He was a man who spoke only when needed. She tried to reply with equal shortness.

“For what?”

“A headache.” Marie held out the paper she had written the Commander’s treatment on. Adan took it and quickly read over it.

“This is better than the stuff I gave him,” the alchemist admitted.

Laughing, Marie took the paper back and placed it in the top drawer of the desk. She knew Adan did the best he could. The Inquisition was lucky to have a man willing to work outside his talents and comfort zone.

“The Commander said something similar.”

The pup at her feet growled in his sleep.

“Does the dog really need to be in here?” Adan asked.

“He whines if he’s left outside. You don’t want to hear that.”

Adan shook his head and dropped the matter. They had the discussion a few times, but he never told her to leave the mabari outside. Marie hadn't been thrilled at first about the dog imprinting on her, but he was a good pup and only chewed on her shoe laces. He still needed a name.

A knock at the door caught both the healer and his assistant's attention. Adan opened the door, revealing one of Leliana’s messengers.

“The Herald and his party have returned from the Hinterlands. Your presence is requested at the Chantry immediately, ser,” the messenger informed, her voice clipped and flat.

Marie put down her pen and grabbed her medicine bag hanging above the desk. The cabin was too small to treat the Herald and his companions. She heard Adan grumble under his breath.

“Come on, ser. The Herald is your favorite patient,” she teased as she stuffed a few more herbs and bandages in her bag.

“Let’s just get this over with.”

Marie smirked as she followed Adan out of the door, the mabari pup close at her heels.


	2. Chapter 2

Cullen stood outside the Chantry’s doors, one hand resting on the pommel of his sword and the other rubbing his neck. A gust of chilled mountain air ruffled the fur on his pauldrons. He was displeased with the outcome of the war council meeting. The Herald had agreed with Josephine’s plan to exchange favors with a noble instead of using Inquisition forces. Cullen understood the need for appearances, but the Inquisition needed to stand on its own. Being tethered to the whims of nobility would bring trouble in the future.

A high pitched barking interrupted Cullen’s thoughts. Looking to his left, he saw a mabari pup running towards him. The dog stopped at his feet, wagging his tail. The only mabari in Haven belonged to Healer Hadley. Cullen had been avoiding the healer since their first meeting weeks before. He had been getting his refills from Adan, even though Cullen knew the young woman made the mixtures and had them ready for him. He felt some guilt for avoiding her, but he didn’t want her to realize his headaches were more than just headaches.

The mabari bit down on the hem of Cullen’s cloak and tugged. 

“Enough of that,” Cullen reprimanded as he kneeled down in the snow to pet the dog. The mabari jumped back.

Cullen stood back up as the pup ran down the path leading to Adan’s cabin and back to him. The dog barked and tugged on his cloak again before running back down the path. Curious, Cullen followed him. As he walked between Adan’s cabin and the sleeping quarters next to it, a loud bang came from within the healer’s cabin. Cullen stepped back as the window shutters and door came flying open. White smoke poured out of the cabin. Cullen saw Healer Hadley sprint out of the cabin, arms covering her face. She halted and turned around, waving away the smoke.

“Andraste’s knickers!” the young healer shouted, kicking the air in front of her. 

As the smoke thinned, Cullen could see her clothes were splattered in a green substance. The pup at Cullen’s side barked, catching his owner’s attention. Her wide eyed expression turned into a scowl. Cullen heard her scoff as she looked away from him, hands balled at her hips.

“Don’t you dare laugh,” she warned, an edge in her voice as she looked back at him.

Cullen saw a streak of the green goo on her face and couldn’t contain the laugh in the back of his throat. His laugh deepened as the woman glared at him, but the look softened as a short laugh escaped her lips, followed by another. The pup ran to her, licking the goo on her skirt. 

“Do I dare ask what happened?” Cullen teased as he approached her.

Healer Hadley wiped her forehead with the back of her hand. Cullen noticed her curls were green and stuck to her face.

“Some accidental alchemy,” she replied with a chuckle. Her face grew serious, her brows knitted together and her mouth formed a thin line. “Andraste preserve me, Adan is going to kill me.”

“It can’t be that bad, can it?” Cullen asked heading into the cabin, the healer following behind.

He spoke too soon, Cullen realized as he poked his head through the doorway. The green goo painted the back wall and table against it. The air was still smokey and it smelled faintly of burning grass. Cullen felt the light touch of Healer Hadley’s hand on his arm as she stepped around him. Her nose was scrunched in a grimace.

“Oh no...my notes,” she whispered.

The young woman walked over to the far table and picked up her journal, which was dripping with green liquid. She wiped at the pages with the corner of her apron. Cullen heard her grumble about “mixed up vials” and a “wasted batch of healing potions.” Setting the journal on her desk, Healer Hadley grabbed a rag and started wiping down the table.

“Would you like some assistance?” Cullen asked as he stepped in the cabin. 

She turned around, her brow raised in surprise. The expression was quickly replaced by a smirk.

“Does the Commander have nothing better to do?” she teased.

“Well I...it’s such a big mess…”

“Fine,” she cut him off with a wave of her hand. “Grab that bucket of water by the fire and start on the wall.”

Cullen picked up the bucket and Healer Hadley handed him another cloth. Together they pulled the table away from the wall. He slipped behind it and started scrubbing the green goo. The pup sat down and leaned against Cullen’s heels.

“Was there something you needed Commander?”

“Hmm? No. Your dog led me here. I gather he was worried for you,” Cullen smirked. He turned around in time to see the healer stick her tongue out at the dog, who barked and wagged his tail. 

“Traitor,” she growled. 

“She does that to you too boy?” Cullen asked, reaching down and scratching behind the dog’s ears. “What’s his name?”

“He doesn’t have one.”

Cullen picked up the pup and held him in front of him. The dog tried to lick Cullen’s chin.

“No name, huh? Every great war dog needs a name,” he said to the dog.

As a child Cullen had wanted a mabari. The breed was highly regarded in Ferelden. They imprinted on one owner and were loyal for life. 

“If you know a proper name for a mabari, you can give it to him,” Healer Hadley offered. 

Cullen glanced at her, cradling the pup to his chest. She hummed as she picked up the vials scattered across the table and returned them to the shelves beside the window. There were still splotches of goo on her face, drying on her cheeks. He turned his attention back to the pup, scratching under his chin. He was small for a mabari, probably the runt of the litter.

“How about Roland?” he asked the pup. The mabari yipped in response, trying to chew on Cullen’s fingers. “I’ll take that as a yes, if Healer Hadley agrees.”

The woman stopped cleaning the table, looking up at Cullen and the pup. She reached out and rubbed the dog’s exposed stomach, causing him to squirm in Cullen’s arms. 

“It’s a good name,” she said with a smile that reached her eyes. Cullen found himself smiling in response.

"I should...get back to cleaning this wall.”

Cullen set down Roland and resumed cleaning the wall. A few minutes passed in silence, almost silence. The healer had resumed her humming. It was a ballad the minstrel sung at the tavern. When the wall was clean, Cullen helped push the table back. Aside from the smell and Hadley’s appearance, there was no evidence of the explosion.

“Well Adan may...not notice,” Cullen commented.

“He’s partly to blame for this. We’re going to have a long chat about organization.”

Cullen smirked as he thought of how that conversation would go. Adan wouldn’t want to change his ways for the woman, but would do things her way after a few rounds of arguing.

“I should go,” the Cullen said. “Try to keep the explosions to a minimum.”

Healer Hadley shook her head and smiled as she opened the door for him. 

“I’ll see what I can do,” she said, leaning against the door. “Goodnight Commander. Thanks again.”

Cullen stepped out into the cold. The sun was sinking behind the mountains. He still had some reports to finish before the morning. Cullen waved before heading off to his quarters.

“Goodnight Healer Hadley.”


	3. Chapter 3

_Andraste’s tits it’s cold_. Marie trudged through the snow towards Haven’s gate, hugging herself to keep warm. Her boots were full of snow and her pants were damp. Adan had sent her out to collect the sparse elfoot that grew in the area. The man was still upset over the ruined batch of healing potions. Having her run around in the cold was his punishment. _He could have sent someone else_. She grumbled.

Marie turned around and whistled for Roland. The pup was far behind her, his nose stuck to the ground. His ears perked up at the sharp sound and ran towards her. She stomped her feet as she continued towards the gate, trying to get some feeling back into her toes. She was heading straight to the tavern to order a large mug of ale. Adan could wait on the herbs.

Roland caught up with her, tugging on her satchel. She didn’t stop walking as she turned to look at him.

“Would you quit that, you--”

Maire walked into something solid and furry; she fell back in the snow. Papers fluttered around her. Roland barked playfully, jumping at the falling pages.

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t looking where I was--oh. Healer Hadley.”

It was the Commander. She had walked into the Commander. It was a good thing her face was already red from the cold, otherwise her embarrassment would be plain on her face.

“Well, that was a nice trip,” she mumbled as she sat up.

The Commander shook his head with a smile, holding out a gloved hand. Marie grasped gratefully at his hand. He helped her up, but tugged too hard and she crashed into his chest. His arm wrapped around her waist, preventing her from falling again. The fur on his pauldrons tickled her face as she looked up at him. Her eyes met his honey-colored ones. Heat warmed her cheeks and she quickly averted her gaze. Marie took a step back and the Commander dropped his arm.

“Are you alright?” he asked, rubbing his neck.

“I’m fine, but your papers,” she apologized, tucking her curls behind her ears.

Marie bent down to pick up the papers at her feet. The Commander tried to grab the one from Roland’s mouth, but the mabari ran off through the open gate.

“Roland! You dumb dog!” Marie called after him.

“Hopefully that one wasn’t important,” the Commander laughed.  
Marie got the impression the Commander didn’t laugh much, which was a shame. His face relaxed when he laughed and the sound was pleasant. Marie found herself smiling.

A breeze picked up the remaining papers on the ground, bringing Marie’s attention back to them. It took a few minutes, but they had managed to gather all the papers. _Stupid dog_. Marie handed her stack to the Commander. She stood there in front of him, her arms wrapped around herself, unsure of how to proceed. Each of their encounters had been accompanied by unfortunate incidents. If she was smart, Marie would leave before another occurred.

“I was heading to the tavern for a drink,” she said. “Would you care to join me?”

The commander looked surprised, his brow raised and eyes slightly widened. The expression fell into a small smile.

“I would like that.”

Marie nodded and led the way through the gate and up the stairs. The Commander had to slow his pace to walk beside her.

“I see you got all the green goo out of your hair,” the Commander commented, breaking the silence.

Marie laughed bitterly. “It took three days. Finally got the last of it this morning.”

Opening the door to the tavern, warm air greeted Marie as she stepped inside. She waved down Flissa and held up two fingers. Her cold skin burned as she sat down next to the fire. She turned on the bench to face the fireplace and held out her hands, rubbing them together. She sighed loudly as her fingers began to warm.

“You’re faring well in the cold,” the Commander teased. Marie stuck her tongue out at him. It was childish she knew, but she could never break the habit.

“Not all Fereldens are hardy,” she snapped.

Flissa set their tankards on the table. Marie grabbed a few coins from her satchel and handed them to the woman. Removing her mittens, she wrapped both hands around the mug.

“Cheers Commander,” she said, bring the tankard to her lips. The strong brew warmed her throat and the warmth spread through her chest. Marie sighed in contentment as she took another sip.

“Better?” the Commander asked.

Marie nodded, loosening the scarf around her neck. The afternoon crowd was full of people on breaks. Marie snickered over her drink at the disapproving look the Commander gave a boisterous table of his soldiers. His face looked better with a smirk than a frown. Marie blushed at the thought, tucking a stray curl behind her ear.

“Are they breaking any rules Commander?” Marie asked, nodding towards the soldiers. The Commander sighed, returning his attention back to her.

“No, but I wish they would have some sense of decency.” the Commander took a drink. “I shouldn’t be so hard on them.They’re good soldiers and we’re lucky to have them.”

“So, Commander Cullen. Who’d you have to sleep with to become leader of the Inquisition’s forces?” Marie teased with a wolfish grin.

The Commander choked on his ale. A red blush crept up his cheeks. He set down the tankard and cleared his throat before answering.

“Cassandra offered me the position. After Kirkwall, joining the Inquisition seemed the best way to bring order back to Thedas.” He took another drink. “And you?”

“My father practically pushed me out the door saying something about being part of the world.”

Marie took a large sip of ale. She’d left her home over two months ago. She missed her parents, but didn’t feel homesick, not exactly. Receiving letters helped, but so did her work. She loved working aside Adan, and spending long nights reading in the Chantry’s library.

“This is the farthest and longest I’ve been away from home,” she admitted.

“Did you live in the city?” the Commander asked.

Marie rolled her eyes and clenched her jaw. Her mouth became a thin line. “Are you asking if I lived in an alienage?”

The Commander rubbed his neck, his cheeks turning red under the blonde stubble. He averted his eyes downward. Marie was used to the question, but it still irritated her. Humans never looked past the slight point of her ears.

“My mother is human. My father was Dalish. I grew up on my family’s farm. I have never seen an alienage, and I have no intentions of ever seeing one.”

Marie took another drink. Her eyes didn’t leave the Commander’s face. He sheepishly returned her gaze.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have assumed,” he stammered. “Maker’s breath.”

“It’s fine,” she said, staring down her tankard.

“I am sorry,” the Commander apologized before taking another drink.

Silence settled between them as they finished their drinks. Marie sipped her slowly, her attention on the fireplace.

“Ain’t that tit daft?”

Marie looked to her right as Sera sat down beside her. The elf made a face at the Commander, caused Marie to snort. The Commander scowled and downed the rest of his ale.

“I should go,” he said, standing up. “I have...reports to read. Goodbye Healer Hadley. Sera.”

He nodded to them and left the tavern. A draft blew in as the door opened and closed behind him. Marie finished her drink and rested her chin in her hand.

“What’s stuck up his arse?” Sera asked, bumping her shoulder against Marie’s. Marie shook her head, curls bouncing against her cheeks.

“Heard that did you?”

Sera nodded. Marie sighed and stared at the Commander’s empty tankard. She regretted her anger. He surely meant no harm by his question, but others asked it to be obscene and hurtful. Since joining the Inquisition, she realized how unusual her situation was. If she looked more human, she wouldn’t be asked such questions.

“I’ve got a joke. A Chantry sister, an Antivan Crow, and a magister walk into a tavern--”

“Sorry Sera,” Marie cut her off. “I’m not in the mood for jokes.”

She patted Sera’s shoulder as she stood up, adjusting the satchel on her shoulder.

“I should go. Adan’s waited long enough for his stupid elfroot.”

Marie walked over to the door, bracing herself for the chilly air.

“Healer Marie,” Sera called. Marie turned back to look at her, hand resting on the door handle. “People are stupid. The Commander is a little less stupid than the rest. Just a little.”

“Thanks Sera. I’ll see you later to hear the rest of that joke.”

Marie wrapped her arms around herself as she left the tavern and headed up the stairs to Adan’s cabin. Roland was asleep outside the door, his head resting on the paper he stole. _Silly dog_. Kneeling, Marie patted the dog’s head and grabbed the paper. He whined as she tucked the page into her satchel.

“Let’s go inside,” she told the dog. She opened the door and followed him inside the warm cabin.


	4. Chapter 4

Cullen sat at his desk, report laid out in front of him. His armor was tucked away in the wardrobe. His cloak and pauldrons hung on the back of his chair. The report was missing a page, but it didn’t matter. His eyes strayed out the window next to his desk. From his second floor room in the Chantry, Cullen could see Adan’s cabin. A light still burned inside. His chest tightened at the vision of Healer Hadley sitting at her own desk, nose deep in a book. _Maker’s breath_.

Cullen shook his head and returned to the report. As he reached the bottom of the page, he realized he hadn’t read a word. Cullen leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms above his head and thinking of that afternoon. He hadn’t considered the impact his question would have on the healer.

Glancing back out the window, Cullen snorted as he recalled the potion incident. Her initial anger had softened into laughter then. Perhaps her irritation towards him could be dissolved again.

Cullen stood up, grabbing his cloak and pauldrons. He threw them on as he stepped out into the hall. The Chantry was quiet and the main hall deserted. He tightened his cloak around him as he stepped outside.

A gentle snowfall accompanied the night as it blanketed Haven. The snow crunched under Cullen’s boots as he walked the path to Adan’s. His breath came out in billowy clouds. Cullen stopped in front of the cabin door. He raised his fist to knock, but dropped his hand. Looking away from the door, Cullen rubbed his neck. He wasn’t sure if Healer Hadley was the one inside. Turning back to face the door, he realized he didn’t know what he wanted to say to her.

Holding his breath, Cullen knocked on the door.

“Come in.”

It was Healer Hadley’s voice. Cullen froze, his fist poised mid-knock. His mouth when dry, thoughts scrambling. He heard the scrape of a chair being pushed back. Taking a step back, he realized his mistake. Cullen sprinted around the corner, pressing his back against the cold cabin wall. The door opened.

“Hello?” the healer called out. A few moments later, Cullen heard her grumble. The door slammed shut. Releasing his breath. Cullen rubbed his forehead. Hearing the door open again, his body tensed. Healer Hadley hummed as she stepped out. Cullen held his breath as he listened to her footsteps recede.

Sighing, Cullen pushed himself off the wall. He noticed the new footprints in the snow headed towards the Chantry. He walked down the stairs and passed by the tavern. Warm light and drunken laughter emanated from the small building. Cullen thought about having a drink, but ale would further muddle his thoughts. He kept walking until the path diverged. He could go through the gate or head back to the Chantry.

“What’s keeping you out this late. Curly?” asked a voice behind him.

Cullen turned around. Varric sat by a fire, Bianca on his lap. He was polishing the crossbow with a red cloth. Cullen walked over and stood by the fire, arms crossed in front of his chest.

“Good evening, Varric,” Cullen greeted.

“Looks like you’re thinking about a girl. That pretty young healer, maybe?” Varric speculated with a smirk.

“What?” Cullen asked in surprise. “Why would you...how did you...Maker’s breath...it’s not like that.”

“Relax, Curly. I know that look. I write that look.”

Cullen scowled at the dwarf, causing Varric to chuckle at his discomfort. Glancing back the way he came, Cullen noticed it was dark in the healer’s cabin. He looked down at his boots, feeling disappointed in himself. _Idiot_.

“I’m afraid I’ve made an ass of myself,” Cullen admitted. He thought back to the afternoon and the angry line of Healer Hadley’s mouth.

“You’ll be alright, Curly,” Varric comforted. “The finest nug is the hardest to catch.”

“Did you just compare...nevermind,” Cullen sighed, rubbing his forehead. “Goodnight Varric.”

“Goodnight Curly.” Cullen looked again at Adan’s cabin before heading back to the Chantry. He looked for Healer Hadley as he walked through the building, but he didn’t see her. He even checked the library. As he reached his quarters, he noticed a paper pinned to his door. It was the missing page of his report. There were a few bite marks and a one-word note scrawled on it. He pulled down the paper and walked into his room.

After hanging the cloak and pauldrons in the wardrobe, Cullen sat at his desk. He set the missing page on top of the report. Sorry, the note read. He smiled at the sloppy scribble, finding it fitting for the woman with the pretty scowl.

Opening the bottom drawer of the desk, Cullen noted his supply of herbs and potions was low. He’d have to get a refill the next day. He had training with the troops in the morning and another council meeting in the afternoon. He would have time after the meeting to get his refill, and perhaps speak with Healer Hadley. Cullen stretched as he stood up. He stripped down to his small clothes and crawled into bed.


	5. Chapter 5

“You’ll report here everyday to either Adan or myself,” Marie instructed the tranquil standing before her. “You will assist in tending the wounded and preparing remedies.”

“Yes m’am,” the man acknowledged flatly with a nod of his branded head. Marie tried not to look at his marked brow, but his expressionless eyes were just as unsettling. This was the first time she had met a tranquil.

The Herald had managed to ally the Mage Rebellion to the Inquisition. For a week, Haven was bustling with the influx of mages. Tensions were high, especially with the templars.The discordance between the two was finally settling and mages were assigned quarters and jobs.

“Do you have any questions about your duties, Jeffrey?” Marie asked.

“No ma'am.”

“Alright, see you tomorrow then. Stay out of trouble,” Marie winked.

“I do not get into trouble,” Jeffrey replied, her joke lost upon him.

_What did I expect?_ Marie opened the door for the man. She was surprised to see the Commander standing outside in the fading light. His face was pale.

“Goodnight, Healer Hadley,” Jeffrey said as he walked out the door.

Sighing, she leaned against the door and looked back at the Commander.

“What can I do for you, Commander?” she inquired.

He held up a small leather bag, the contents clinking together.

“I need a refill,” Cullen explained.

“Come in then,” Marie ordered as she stepped inside. “Let’s not let all the heat out.”

The Commander followed her inside, handing her the bag. He stood by the fire, brushing snow from his shoulders. Roland bounded to him, jumping at his knee. The Commander kneeled down to pet the dog.

“How is my favorite paper thief today?” he asked the pup.

Marie opened the cabinet in the far corner. Pulling out the empty vials from the bag, she placed them on the bottom shelf. She grabbed the vials set aside for the Commander and put them in the bag.

“I thought I told you to come back _before_ you ran out,” Marie scolded. She grabbed three herb packets from her desk and added them to the bag.

“It’s been a busy few days,” the Commander reasoned.

“Yes it has,” Marie agreed, “but that’s no excuse.”

Standing up, the Commander took the bag as she handed it to him. “Thank you.”

Marie noticed the tightness in his face and purple circles under his eyes. He had gone days without anything to fight his pain. Marie had considered delivering the medicine to him, but they hadn’t spoken for a week. Not since that afternoon they shared a drink.

“Would you like some tea?” she asked as he turned towards the door.

Commander Cullen looked back at her with a strained smile.

“Tea would be nice.”

Marie smiled back. Grabbing her chair, she dragged it next to the fire place.

“Sit,” Marie directed as she took the bag back. She set it on her desk. The Commander sat down with a sigh, cradling his head in his gloved hand. Roland curled up on the Commander’s feet.

“It feels like days since I last sat down.”

Marie snatched two mugs and the tea tin from the mantle above the fireplace and set them on the nearby table. Pulling on a glove, Marie removed the kettle from the fire. She poured steaming water into the mugs. She set the kettle on the table and opened the tin box.

“I’m sure our new allies kept you on your feet,” Marie remarked.

Sifting through the tea bags, she picked out a mixture to help soothe the Commander’s headache. She grabbed a dawn lotus based tea for herself and dropped the bags in the hot water. Walking back to the cabinet, Marie grabbed a jar of honey and a spoon.

“The templars would have been easier to deal with,” the Commander commented. “But the Herald did what he thought was right.”

Pulling out the tea bags, Marie spooned honey into the mugs. She handed one to Cullen. Leaning against the table, Marie cradled her own mug, blowing away the steam.

“I’m glad he sided with the mages,” she stated.

The Commander blew on his tea before taking a tentative sip.

“Why is that?” he questioned as he took another sip. Marie could see his face start to relax.

“None of the mages here have any talent for healing magic.”

“None of them?”

“Unfortunately no. I’ve been trying to research magic’s effects on certain herbal mixtures to see if they are more effective together.”

“You think they can?”

“Theoretically,” Marie sighed, “but I have been unable to test it.”

“And with the mages here you would be able to do that?” the Commander concluded.

“It’s worth a try.”

“I suppose you’re right,” the Commander admitted.

They sipped their tea in silence. Roland woofed quietly in his sleep. Marie noticed the Commander wince in pain as he looked at the fire.

“If you allow it, I can help with your headache,” she offered.

Holding out her hand, the Commander gave her his mug. She placed it next to hers and walked behind him.

“Lean your head back and close your eyes.”

The Commander was hesitant, but complied. He tipped his head back, shoulders relaxing. Marie pressed her thumbs gently against his temples, moving them in slow, tiny circles. His skin was warm under her touch. Marie hummed as she massaged along his brow and across his forehead.

Marie repeated the motions for a few minutes. Noticing he had said nothing and that his breathing became slow but steady, she cocked her head to the side. She glanced at the Commander’s face. All the tension was gone, he had fallen asleep. Marie held in a snicker.

“Commander?” she whispered, eliciting no response. Clearing her throat, she spoke a little louder. “Commander?”

His mouth twitched at the corners, but his eyes remained shut. The Commander needed his sleep, but not in a chair in the healer’s cabin. Marie leaned in a little closer.

“Cullen?” He opened his eyes, confusion knitted his brows. Marie stepped back as he scrambled to sit up, disturbing Roland in the process. The pup stood up and walked over to the desk. He curled up on the blanket underneath it. Marie couldn’t hold in her laughter.

“What...did I fall asleep?” the Commander asked, color rising in his cheeks.

Marie nodded. “I will take that as a compliment of my skills.”

“Ah, yes...it did help.” The Commander stood, rubbing his neck. “I should probably...it’s late…”

Marie handed him his bag of remedies and opened the door for him. She gave him a smile as she looked up into his face.

“Goodnight, Commander.”

He paused in the doorway. His face was still flushed. “Goodnight, Healer Hadley. Thank you for the refills...and the help.”

“Anytime, Commander,” she said as he walked out into the snow. She watched him disappear around the building before shutting the door.

Leaning against the door, Marie noticed her cheeks were warm. Shaking her head, she emptied the mugs and moved her chair back. She sat down and opened a book, forcing herself to concentrate on the words before her. But the peaceful look on Cullen’s face clouded her mind. Sighing, she grabbed her journal and opened to the page with the recipes she made for the Commander. She picked up her pen and unstoppered her ink well, determined to find a cure for lyrium withdrawal.


	6. Chapter 6

Haven was alight with revelry. The Herald had sealed the Breach with the assistance of the mages. The Haven had been celebrating since the sky cleared. Leaning against the trebuchet, Cullen could still hear the laughter and singing from the tavern. He looked up at the remnants of the Breach still in the sky.

“There you are.”

Cullen sat up and looked over his shoulder. Healer Hadley was walking over to him, arms wrapped around herself. With her hat pulled low on her brow he could barely see her face. Her scarf covered her nose.

“Where’s Roland?” he asked as she sat down next to him. It was rare to see the healer without her furry companion.

“He’s sleeping,” she replied, pulling the scarf away from her face. “Watching Sera and Dorian try to out drink each other was too much for him.”

“I can imagine,” Cullen chuckled. Marie shivered beside him. “What are you doing out here? You hate being cold.”

“I’m out here because you’re stupid enough to sit out here in the cold,” she retorted.

“The celebrating was getting...overwhelming,” Cullen admitted. “I wasn’t expecting anyone to join me.”

“I can leave if you’d prefer,” Marie teased.

“What? No.” Cullen sighed, rubbing his neck. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“I know,” Marie smirked.

She leaned back, her face turned to skyward. In the flickering torchlight, Cullen could see her face was flushed. She smelled of ale.

“It’s funny. The sky looks strange without a hole in it,” Marie commented. “You’d think everything would feel normal again. But closing the Breach is just the start isn’t it?”

The Chantry was in shambles. Even though the mages were the Inquisition’s allies, the Mage-Templar War wasn’t over. Orlais was still in civil war. Closing the Breach seemed easy when compared to the chaos that plagued Thedas.

“What is that?” Marie asked, pointing beyond Haven’s outer wall.

Following her finger, Cullen stared out at the mountain peaks. Orange dots peppered the snow, swarming towards Haven. Cullen stood up to get a better look. There were people coming down from the mountains.

“It’s an army,” he whispered. His stomach dropped. Haven wasn’t a fortress. The Inquisition wasn’t ready for this kind of attack.

“Cullen?” Marie called, bringing his attention to her.

The watchtower bells started ringing. The drunken laughter was replaced by shouts of panic. Cullen looked towards the gate, where his troops were gathering.

“Get to the Chantry,” Cullen directed.

Marie nodded and started sprinting towards the gate.

“Marie!” Cullen called after her. She stopped and turned back to him. “Be careful.”

“You too.”

 

Marie weaved her way through the scrambling soldiers heading towards the gate. She could hear Roland barking as she ran up the stairs to Adan’s cabin. Hands shaking, she quickly grabbed her satchel and started stuffing vials and bandages into it. She ran through a mental list of materials, leaving drawers and cupboards open in her wake. She growled in frustration when her bag was full. Stuffing a few more items in her coat, she headed for the door. Roland stood in the doorway, barking at the sky.

“Come on, boy. To the Chantry,” Marie said, sidestepping the dog.

Marie looked towards the Chantry. Adan and Minaeve were running towards her.

“Adan!” she called to him. “What are you doing? Go back!”

The alchemist was out of breath as he reached his cabin.

“We need more supplies,” he said, stepping inside. “Where are my personal supplies?”

Marie couldn’t help but chuckle as she followed the man. She opened the cupboard by the fireplace and handed a small bag to Adan.

“This is why I stressed the importance of organization,” she remarked. 

“Is this really the time?,” Adan scolded. “I’ll get the rest of the supplies. Go on ahead to the Chantry.”

“Don’t take long,” she said as she stepped through the doorway. She whistled for Roland as she jogged up the path. He was still barking, facing the snow-covered army. “Roland--”

Her words stuck in her throat as she saw a growing dark shape in the sky. Roland’s bark turned into a low growl, his short hair raising on his back. Squinting, she tried to determined the shape it was, but it was too high up. Then it swooped down, fire erupted from it. A dragon.

Marie turned on her heels. She slipped in the snow as she ran towards the Chantry, Roland running beside her. She could hear the monster’s wings and the crackle of its fire as it flew overhead. She dared not to look up for fear of it catching her. Trembling, she sprinted through the Chantry doors.

The Chantry was in chaos. The main hall was congested with pilgrims, refugees, and Inquisition members. Marie spotted Jeffrey standing calmly at the edge of the room. She pushed her way through to him. 

“Jeffrey, where are the wounded?” she asked.

“They are being taken to the Chapel,” the man replied. Marie barely heard him over the of voices.

She grabbed Jeffrey’s wrist and led him to the back of the Chantry. Removing her satchel, she handed it to the tranquil.

“Pass out the supplies. Make sure those critically wounded get them first,” she ordered as she opened the chapel doors.

Wounded lay on the floor and on the pew benches. Sisters attended to those still in pain and prayed overs those no longer feeling it. 

“Healer Hadley, we need you over here,” Mother Giselle called to her from across the room.

Marie made her way to the older woman, sidestepping wounded and the attending sisters. Mother Giselle sat beside a bleeding soldier. She pressed a cloth to the wound in his belly.

“Let me see,” Marie said she kneeled next to the man. She didn’t need to see it to know the wound was deep. 

“Am I going to die?” the man asked. His face was pinched with fear.

“Mother Giselle, I’m going to need a mage with healing skills,” Marie instructed.

“Of course.”

Waving Jeffrey to her, Marie grabbed the satchel and dug through it until she pulled out a clay jar. She grabbed a clean cloth and wiped away the blood on the man’s stomach.

“Mother Giselle sent me over to assist you.”

A stern looking woman stood before her, arms folded across her chest.

“Good. I need you to close the wound to stop the bleeding,” Marie ordered.

The mage glared at her, kneeling beside the man. Her hands started to glow as she placed them over the soldier’s stomach. His skin slowly stitched back together. Marie watched as sweat beaded the mage’s forehead.

“That’s enough,” Marie commanded.

The mage let out a heavy breath as she removed her hands. Marie handed her a lyrium vial from her coat pocket. Dripping her fingers into the clay jar, Marie scooped out the green salve and spread it across the wound. She wiped her hands on her pants before bandaging the wound.

“How many others have similar wounds?” Marie asked the mage.

“He was the worst. We...lost the others.”

The chapel doors opened, catching everyone’s attention. One of Lelianna’s messengers stood in the doorway. 

“We’re evacuating Haven now,” the messenger announced.

Marie glanced around the room. The chantry sisters were getting the wounded on their feet. She walked over to a woman sitting on the floor, a large gash on her thigh.

“We’ll get you bandaged up and on your feet,” Marie told her. She started unraveling a roll of bandages, but the woman stopped her.

“I won’t make it far,” the woman stated, a hint of panic in her voice.

“You will,” Marie reassured the female soldier. She covered the gash with salved and started wrapping the thigh.

“I’m going to slow you down--”

“Would you rather I leave you here?” Marie cut in. She glared at the woman, brow raised.

The soldier opened her mouth to respond, but closed it and shook her head. She didn’t say anything as Marie quickly finished bandaging her leg and pulled her to her feet. Marie wrapped her arm around the woman’s waist as the woman draped her arm over the healer’s slender shoulders.

Marie and the soldier followed the Chantry sisters out the door and down to the Chantry’s lower level. Soldiers guided the way to the hidden tunnel. The tunnel ended at the base of the mountains behind Haven. A biting wind blew through the progression of people climbing up the mountain. Marie clenched her jaw to keep her teeth from chattering. Tightening her grip on the woman, she glanced at her. The woman’s face was pinched with pain.

“Let’s go,” Marie said.

 

The trek up the mountain had been difficult. Not all the wounded had made it to the camp. When Marie reached the camp, Mother Giselle had already started organizing the wounded and gathered what mages she could to assist with healing. Marie assisted in taking care of the Herald after his miraculous return.

The night was almost over by the time Marie finally sat down. she sat close by a fire, Roland curled up against her back. She sighed as her feet and hands warmed up. The journey from Haven had been bitter cold. Her boots were soaked from the snow.

Marie drew her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around her legs. Resting her forehead on her knees, she closed her eyes. Her body ached from carrying the female soldier through the deep snow.

Marie lifted her head up as a blanket was placed on her shoulders. Cullen knelt beside her, the blanket still in his hands. 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you,” he said, withdrawing his hands from her shoulders. “I didn’t want you to get cold.”

Grabbing the edges of the blanket, Marie wrapped it tightly around herself.

“You didn’t wake me,” she assured “but thank you.”

Cullen sat beside her, close enough for their shoulders to touch. His body blocked the chilly breeze that blew through the camp. Silence fell between them, interrupted only by Roland’s quiet snore. Marie fought to keep her eyes open.

“I started to worry,” Cullen admitted. “I didn’t see you in the Chantry…” 

Marie glanced at him. He looked at the fire, rubbing his neck. His skin was pale and he was clenching his jaw. The long night was playing havoc on his body, worsening the effects of his withdrawal. He probably didn’t have anything for a headache, and neither did she.

“I’m glad you made it out in one piece,” Marie told him. She smiled at him and bumped his shoulder with hers.

Cullen gave her a small smile, but it settled into a grim line. “I won’t leave you behind. Not again.”

Marie opened her mouth to say something sarcastic, but the determined look on the Commander’s face made her falter. She looked away from him and stared down at her knees.

“Thank you,” she whispered, resting her head on his pauldrons and closing her eyes. Cullen wrapped a strong arm around her and she felt safe. His warmth was the last though Marie had before giving into sleep.


End file.
